What Hurts The Most
by Gryph
Summary: Steve and Jaime go on assignment and during it's completion, Jaime is injured. During her recovery she remembers her time with Steve and they try to make up for lost time. Written for the Yuletide 2013 Fanfiction exchange.


_What hurts the most was being so close_  
_And having so much to say and watching you walk away_  
_And never knowing what could have been_  
_And not seeing that loving you is what I was tryin' to do_  
_~Rascal Flatts_

Colonel Steve Austin sat next to Jaime Sommers' hospital bed, his hand wrapped around hers. He traced his thumb down over her wrist and back toward her fingers, feeling the strength in it; real muscles, flesh and bone and blood, built up from years of playing professional tennis. The other hand, her bionic one, lay quiescent on the other side, half-hidden by the covers. Tubing snaked from her left arm—the real one—to bags of fluid hanging above the bed. On her other side, a monitor softly bleated out the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. The right side of her chest was swathed under layers of dressings, covering the surgical site where Rudy Wells had removed a bullet.

A bullet that had been meant for him.

When he closed his eyes, the scene replayed again and again in vivid detail. He and Jaime were on assignment to foil the kidnapping of the daughter of the Jordanian ambassador. They had just rescued the frightened girl when the last of the kidnappers had fired at them from hiding. Steve saw the muzzle flash, heard the echo of the report just barely before he was slammed against the car by a bionically-fueled push. With her enhanced hearing, Jaime must have picked up the telltale click of the gun's firing mechanism, giving her a split second warning before the bullet would have caught Steve square in the chest. Instead, Jaime crumpled to the ground, a bright stain of red spreading on her right shoulder, just above where her bionics began. I few more inches to her right, and she artificial arm would have taken the damage instead of her more fragile body.

In his anger, Steve grabbed the first thing that came to hand—the mirror off the car—and hurled it at the gunman with pinpoint accuracy. He probably fractured the man's ribs when it hit him in the chest, but Steve was beyond caring. He rushed to Jaime's side, where Raiyah, the young Jordanian girl, knelt crying. Jaime's eyes were closed, her face so peaceful that Steve's heart leapt into his throat for a moment. But her chest rose and fell, although her breathing was rapid and shallow. He murmured a few reassurances to Raiyah, then scooped up Jaime and got both of them settled in the back seat of the car. He could already hear the police sirens heading toward the scene; they would make sure the kidnappers were apprehended. Oscar Goldman would take care of all the paperwork to get the culprits properly charged by the authorities.

The scene was so eerily like the skydiving accident that had nearly claimed Jaime's life, when he had had to beg Oscar to save her with bionics, that he had been frantic by the time Rudy Wells arrived.

Steve turned from pacing as soon as Rudy came out of the operating room.

Rudy pulled off his surgical cap, "She's going to be fine, Steve. The bullet nicked an artery, and she lost a lot of blood." He grabbed Steve's shoulder and squeezed it. "But she should make a full recovery."

Steve's relief was palpable as his shoulders sagged. "Thanks, Rudy. Were her bionics damaged at all?"

Rudy shook his head. "No, and good thing, too. It was inches away from the nuclear power pack. Damage to that could have been devastating."

Jaime was still unconscious. The nurses who came into the room to check her vital signs sometimes looked like they were going to say something to him about leaving, but a harsh, squinty glare convinced them to stay silent. He would keep vigil at her bedside until she woke.

Oscar ghosted into the room on quiet feet, a vase of roses in his hand, later in the evening after normal visiting hours were over. Being a high ranking government official had its privileges. He gently set the flowers on the bedside table before touching Steve cautiously on the shoulder, waking him from nodding off. "Hey pal," Oscar said softly.

Steve inhaled sharply and sat up straighter, causing the Naugahyde to creak beneath him. "Oscar," he blinked owlishly, then took the proffered hand to shake. "Did the ambassador's daughter get back to her family?"

"Yes, and they are very grateful. King Hussein himself called the President with a formal thank you for her safe return." He waved the business away. "But how's our girl?"

Steve's hand tightened slightly on Jaime's from the slacked grip he'd kept on it when he dozed off. "Rudy says she'll be fine." He looked at her face like a man dying of thirst looking at a fountain. Then he shook his head. When he turned back, Oscar could see the residual fear in his eyes. "She pushed me out of the way, Oscar. I should've been the one saving her."

Before Oscar could answer, a soft voice said, "I owed you one." Jaime's eyelids fluttered open, and she turned her head toward Steve and Oscar. At the same time, her hand tightened around the astronaut's fingers where they were tucking inside hers.

Steve bolted from his chair and bent over the bed. He reached up pushed Jaime's blonde hair off of her face and tucked it behind her ear. "How are you feeling?" Next to him, Oscar leaned in closer, his expression pinched with concern.

Jaime huffed, rolling her eyes. "Like I got slammed by an ace serve." She licked her lips, looked over at Oscar. "Tell him it's not his fault, Oscar."

"I tried, but you know what a big boy scout he is," Goldman tilted his head toward Steve. He patted Jaime's blanket-covered leg. "We were worried about you."

She smiled at Oscar, blinking owlishly to clear her vision. Then a frown creased her brow. "Can you give me and Steve a few minutes alone?"

A little taken aback, Steve and Oscar exchanged a confused look. But with a final squeeze of her leg, Oscar replied, "Sure thing. I come back tomorrow after you've both," he gave Austin a stern look, "gotten some rest. Feel better, babe." He gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"Thank you," she said. She waited until Oscar had left and closed the door before she addressed Steve again. "Sit down, would you? You look like you are about to fall over."

Without letting go of her hand, Steve hooked the chair closer with one foot and settle back down into it. He tried to calm the galloping of his heart, unsure what she didn't want to say in front of their good friend. "What—"

Before he could finish his question, Jaime clamped down on his hand, her face intent. "Steve, I—," she paused with a slight shake of her head, "I, I _remember_ another time when we did this, when you sat by my bedside when I woke up." Her eyes narrowed. "After the accident, when I woke up after Rudy made me bionic."

She stopped, letting that sink in. Steve's confusion remained. "He said you'd have flashes. You did before." He leaned forward again. "No head pain?"

"No, no pain. Not like before. And it's not just flashes this time, Steve," her tone was strident, insistent. "I think I remember... I think I remember _everything_."

"Everything?" Steve asked cautiously.

She smiled, a slight upturning of the corners of her lips. "Yes. I remember that we were engaged. I remember sitting with your mother, planning our wedding." She sighed, and her voice dropped to a hushed almost whisper. "But it's not just the memory, like a scene playing on a movie screen this time. I remember the _feelings_ I had, of... of being so completely loved, being so contented." She paused. "I remember how much I love you."

Steve swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he tried to control his emotions. His expression melted from fearful concern into glowing adoration. "You do?"

She chuckled softly. "Yeah, flyboy, I do. And if you still want to say that in front of all our friends and family, so do I."

Steve surged forward, pressing his lips to Jaime's with a gentle urgency. He resisted the urge to deepen it, conscious of her condition. He pulled back slightly, so he could look deep into her eyes. "Of course I do. I... when you went down, I didn't think I could stand losing you again; all I could think that I had to get you to Rudy, get you help. I don't know what I would have done—," his voice broke. He'd already lost her not once, but twice before. First when he thought she'd died due to her bionic rejection, and again when he discovered her alive, but with no memory of him or the love they'd shared. In many ways, that second loss had hurt so much more than the first.

"Oh Steve," her chin quivered and moisture gathered in the corner of her eyes, "we're always going to have that danger in our lives; it's who you are—it's who _we_ are. But that's why we have to grab onto that happiness with both hands while we can. Loving anyone comes with risks. But you have to do it anyway, or what's the point, y'know?"

He laid his head against her chest, listening to the steady beat of the heart he held so dear. "Yeah, I know exactly what you mean."


End file.
